


till the last flower

by vannral



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Friendship, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 07:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13585431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vannral/pseuds/vannral
Summary: The Hanahaki Disease is an illness born from one-sided love, where the patient coughs up flower petals. The infection can be removed through surgery, but the feelings disappear along with the petals.Caleb Widogast is heartbroken and very tired.





	till the last flower

**Author's Note:**

> This is so self-indulgent, holy shit. Also tropes continue, i do not give a single fuck (well i kinda do). Anyway, I hope you find this entertaining :D

Jester giggles.

It’s a very lovely sound, for sure, in Caleb’s opinion; bright and _lively,_ and in other circumstances, Caleb would be relieved to hear it.

(it meant no danger, no running, no spells.)

But now...

She’s talking, bubbling, _radiating,_ showing her new shiny rings to Fjord, whose face has softened into something tender and almost adoring _._

They have an interesting relationship - effortless and graceful in a way that’s both strange and awe-inspiring.

     “Isn’t it pretty?” Caleb hears Jester ask, her grin wide in the flickering light.

     “Sure”, Fjord replies just as easily. “Suits your hair.”

     “Aww, you can continue _that_ talk!”

Caleb turns his head away. He’s weary, so impossibly weary _;_ he’s terrified out of his mind and anxious the other half of it, and every _breath_ he now takes requires conscious effort and _energy._

He ignores it.

( _he has to.)_

Up until these days, it’s been good.

Nott smiles more now, laughs more, and he understands so painfully well why and that’s why he refuses to acknowledge what his body is struggling against.

(he likes these new people. they might be _insane_ and dangerous, but they are _good_ people. friends. it’s been so long since they had any. it’s been so long since _caleb_ has had any.)

It’s been a while now. A good, terrified, _happy_ while with them.

But now, Caleb’s heart is catching up with anxiety, tangling and poisoning and it’s _ruining_ this good thing they have, this group, this precious circle of good, weird people, and Caleb would rather die than tell _why_ he’s suddenly coughing and why _it’s hard to breathe, why his heart spasms between his ribs -_

After a taxing day such as this, bones aching, agony in each laborous breath, Caleb defies his odds and slumps to sit by the camp fire, half-blind with exhaustion and magic that is not his and - _and - and - and_

     ”You okay?” Fjord’s deep voice asks across him, looking up from whatever trinket Jester’s showing him. ”You look a bit worn out.”

 _What a way to phrase it._ Caleb smiles faintly. ”Yes, I’m good, I’m... just tired, that is all. Running does that. And we did...a lot of that. Today.”

     “It wasn’t any fun”, Jester wrinkles her nose in distaste. “We could have picked at least somewhere _steady_ to run. Marsh isn’t fun. Now my dress smells all _funky._ ”

     ”Sure, but I wasn’t - “ Fjord trails off, frowns and says to Caleb: “I mean, if ya say so.” He sounds  worried, because _of course,_ Fjord has always had a knack for seeing through bullshit as it is.

(molly’s especially bitter about _that.)_

Caleb closes his eyes. Tries to enjoy the warmth. The flicker of red embers, burning up high toward the sky. The crackling of the fire.

Simple comfort.

_I wonder how long I have time left...? Can’t be too long, now._

He can feel it. Continued pain, rustling of his lungs, _gods know how long it’s been going on anyway.._. such a sneaky illness, treacherous, he thinks wryly. How ironic that his head hadn’t caught up. 

Or maybe he’s just that good at being in denial.

Still...

...the other option would be exceptionally worse.

     ”Thank you”, Caleb murmurs without opening his eyes. ”For - for asking, anyway.”

Fjord hesitates. ”Of course. Look, if anything’s wrong, though... please tell us. We wanna know.”

     “Yes! You are our friend, we want you to be happy!” Jester pipes in with a kind, cheerful smile that causes hot shame to curl in Caleb’s stomach.  

_I don’t deserve -_

     ”Yes, of course.”

It’s a lie. Of course it’s a lie, and maybe Fjord’s kind enough to let it pass this time. They all have secrets. And Fjord knows about those, too.

To Caleb’s surprise, Fjord decides to sit beside him, close enough to be a comforting presence and far enough for it to be appropriate.

     ”You’re not a coward, Caleb”, he finally murmurs, voice low and _real._

Caleb’s breathing hitches. 

     ”I - I think I know myself better”, he chokes. Let Fjord believe this is why he’s down. Let him believe, and sure, it’s not even that far off from the truth, to be honest.

     ”True”, Fjord nods, stoking the fire. ”But I’ve seen you. The way you wield magic without hesitation to _help_ us... it isn’t cowardice, Caleb. Bravery is doin’ things although you’re scared out of your mind.”

_Oh, this man -_

Sweet, warm fondness stirs in Caleb’s chest.

And at this moment, _at this very moment,_ he isn’t sorry, he isn’t afraid.

 _Another_ sort of feeling blossoms in Caleb’s throat, and this time it rises up, _up, up, up_ in his mouth, curls on his tongue like chalk, it feels like _choking_ and strangling and air doesn’t _exist_ anymore, and -

Caleb coughs, it burns his throat, clenches all the muscles around his windpipe -

     ”Whoa, hey, easy, here, water - ”

Thankfully the fit subsides, and now even more tired, Caleb accepts the flask and takes a swig. It won’t ease the burn, ( _nothing does),_ but it’ll calm that concern in Fjord’s expression. Caleb forces a weak smile and hands the flask back.

     ”Thank you.”

Fjord’s scowling now. ”Are you gettin’ sick?” Before Caleb can open his mouth to protest, Fjord lifts his hand to try Caleb’s forehead. Caleb freezes, in shock and unsure. ”Nah, you don’t _feel_ feverish...”

     ”Because I’m not”, Caleb points out and is amazed how steady his voice sounds. ”Just...inhaled some smoke.”

Fjord doesn’t say anything, and the lines on his forehead deepen. Caleb wants to shrink into himself.

_Liar. I’m such a liar. Scum. Unworthy of all this - this friendship and he deserves better than me coughing up bloody petals and ruining everything -_

Anxiety rises up, and _everything’s unraveling -_

Caleb shoots up on his legs, startling Fjord.

     ”Thank you”, he murmurs, hurries past him to the shadows, to his tent, away to breathe in the way he _can’t._

+

_Breathe._

_+_

Caleb tries.

+

He can’t sleep.

+

(or he _can,_ but nightmares haunt him every single _moment,_ he drowns in black water, he screams and _screams_ and he doesn’t know if he’s screaming for real or just in the dream.)

+

There are green blood-soaked peony petals lying on his pillow.

The first time that it happened, Caleb’s heart turned to ice and he couldn’t rip his eyes off them.

( _like time had stopped.)_

Now, he’s numb and just... _tired._

_Another reminder of what’s happening._

+

     ”Gods, you look like _shit.”_

     ”Thank you, Molly, a very accurate observation as usual”, Caleb answers with a faint smile at the tiefling, who shuffles his cards by the fire.

     ”One of my virtues, sure, but this time I’m not even exaggerating”, Mollymauk says. ”Did you not sleep, _at all?”_

     ”Well, it certainly feels like I didn’t”, Caleb says, forces another smile and wonders if he’ll regret sitting there, under Mollymauk’s sharp eyes. Well, _what the hell, here goes._ ”How long have you been up?”

Mollymauk shrugs. ”A while.” Then, he tilts his head, stops shuffling. ”You know, you don’t need to suffer all by yourself.”

Caleb stops breathing. He’s completely frozen.

     ”What?”

But there’s just determination on Mollymauk’s features.

     ”You don’t have to tell _me”,_ he shrugs again, but it still looks tense on him. ”But this is one of those things that you _have_ to tell someone. Preferably the one who causes you to produce _these.”_

With a flick of his fingers, he fishes out one of the petals.

_One of Caleb’s flower petals._

All colour rushes sickeningly out of Caleb’s face.

     ”How long?” Mollymauk asks, keeping his eyes fixed on Caleb as he puts the petal away, away from sight.

     ”Long enough”, Caleb manages to say, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

     ”And that’s it? What’s your plan? Do you even _have_ a plan?”

Caleb stays silent.

     ”This will _kill_ you”, Mollymauk hisses, his lip curled.

     ”Yes, thank you, I’m more than aware of _that - ”_

     ”No, are you? Are you actually doing this, this is _stupid - ”_

     ”I _am_ handling it - and I will _not_ subject him to - to _this,_ absolutely not - ”

Mollymauk pauses. ”Him?”

Caleb’s heart plummets to his stomach like an anchor. _Shit._ He turns his head away. _No. He can’t -_

     ”Please, stop”, he murmurs, fingers gripping his knees. ”I don’t want to continue this conversation.”

The silence drags on; Mollymauk glares at him, his mouth pinched.

     ”You’re going to _die,_ if you don’t tell him.”

     ”I _know_ that.”

     ”Then why the hell aren’t you?”

Caleb runs a hand through his messy hair. Yes, well, what can he say to that? There are many reasons, _so many,_ shame-tangled and _awful,_ buried deep in and painful, and he doesn’t want Fjord to know just how _pathetic_ -

     ”He does not feel the same, and that’s more than all right that he doesn’t, he does not owe me anything, least of all to reciprocate any feelings I have. It will be horribly awkward for anyone around us, so _no,_ I will not tell him.”

     ”Well, you’re fucking _stupid - ”_

     ” _Thank you, Molly.”_  

Mollymauk starts to look increasingly frustrated.

 _It’s odd,_ thinks Caleb in a strangely detached way that’s probably bordering on hysterical, _Molly’s not the one coughing up flower petals, yet he’s this worked up about it._

     ”Did it ever cross your mind, you know miraculously, that he might, you know _,_ feel _the same?”_

     ”The flowers come from _unrequited_ feelings, Molly”, Caleb points out with surprising calmness, now that the discussion is somewhat back in his control. ”I think that might be somewhat less of a pressing issue, otherwise.”

     ”Stop being cute”, Mollymauk snaps. ”It’s not funny, _this_ is not funny.”

     ”I know it’s not, and that’s why I’m considering all the options.”

     ”You mean _cutting_ it? _Caleb!”_

     ”I’m not _fond_ of that option, absolutely not, and I’m not saying I will take it, but I need to point out that it’s still an option, no matter how unpleasant it is - ”

     ”You will lose every feeling you have for him! Every single _one!_ You can’t honestly look me in the eye and tell me that’s the way you want this to go!”

Caleb doesn’t answer. His shoulders slump forward. Exhaustion returns to gnaw on his bones. It’s harder to breathe; a heavy weight settles on his chest.

Grimacing Caleb rubs his sternum, and Mollymauk takes note. His hard-lined expression softens.

     ”Is it - it’s painful, isn’t it?”

     ”It doesn’t feel nice.”

     ”Stop evading, you stubborn bastard, I’m trying to _help_ you.”

Caleb lifts his head. Mollymauk meets his eyes, challenging and proud and _defiant,_ like he’s daring Caleb to argue against that. But Caleb doesn’t. He smiles very softly.

     ”I know. Thank you. For being kind.”

     ”Oh, sod _that,_ I’m not kind, I’m _angry_ with you”, Mollymauk snaps, but he’s giving in now. Maybe he’s just as tired as Caleb is. ”Are you really not going to tell him?”

     ”He doesn’t need to be put in that position, it’s not fair for him.”

     ”This isn’t fair for _you,_ either. Look, the flowers don’t _actually_ mean unrequited, it’s based on _your_ feelings rather than _his._ Really, you have to consider - ”

     ”I am. Don’t worry, I will handle this.”

     ”Sure, your track record has been nothing but _remarkable”,_ Mollymauk snarks, but spreads his hands in surrender with a sigh. Caleb isn’t sure if the gesture is mocking or not, but Mollymauk’s face is too grim for it. ”Fine, all right. But I’m warning you, do _not_ kick the bucket without telling us, do you hear me? I am _serious.”_

Caleb doesn’t doubt it.

And in that very moment, he’s so grateful, so impossibly thankful. He smiles warmly, and it stuns Mollymauk, who _gapes_ at him.

     ”I will try to remember”, Caleb says sincerely and hopes he will have time for that. He doesn’t find it very likely, sure, but he _hopes_ he will.

     ”Good. Now eat something, I think I’m getting nauseous just by looking at you.”

+

They eat by the fire until others join them.

Nott chatters with excitement and Jester keeps an excellent pace with her, and their voices drown everything else. Yasha blinks slowly, and Mollymauk knows she will need a cup of coffee before anyone gets anything out of her. Beau looks like she’s ready to nod off entirely.

Now, Mollymauk is very good at keeping secrets, many of his own in his sleeves, ( _unsure and bleeding and vague, but he will keep them),_ but _this_ one is heavy, not his and hard to keep _because someone is dying in front of them._

So he grits his teeth together, resists the urge to throttle the wizard, who pokes at his oatmeal and pretends flowers aren’t choking him.  

_He is dying, the stubborn bastard._

But then again, Caleb hasn’t survived this long by being _dense,_ so he looks up and glances at Mollymauk a little nervously.

_This man, honestly, good graces..._

Mollymauk nods. _I’m keeping your secret, don’t worry._ Caleb relaxes. Mollymauk doesn’t agree with Caleb’s decision, certainly, but he will keep it a secret, for Caleb’s sake.

+

They pack their things and continue their journey.

+

     ”Are you sure you’re okay?” Nott sounds nervous, jittery, and Caleb is quick to assure her, _yes, i’m all right, don’t worry, i just didn’t sleep well._

(caleb thinks he can hear mollymauk’s scoff somewhere in front of them.)

     ”Really?” Nott asks, wringing her little fingers. “You’re really worrying me, Caleb...”

     ”I’m sorry, you really don’t have to. I’m all right. Did you sleep well?”

     ”Uh, well enough, I guess.” Her yellow eyes gauge him, not suspicious, not invasive, just nervous. ”You’re really pale... I mean, I can see your funny blue veins under there, it’s really weird, is it...supposed to do that?”

     ”Probably a little on the anemic side, I’m afraid”, Caleb answers and wonders how long he’s able to keep this up. _Lying to her. To everybody._

     ”Oh, is that what it means? I dunno...well, if you’re really sure...” she trails off uncertainly.

     ”I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”

     ”But I sorta do?” Her smile wavers around the edges. ”Can’t really help it, you know.” 

Caleb swallows thickly. ”I... I do know. Thank you. You’re too good, kiddo”, he mumbles and ruffles her hood. She flashes a wide, sharp-toothed smile at him, all beaming and pleased, and it’s suddenly hard to look at.

 _I’ll miss you. But... at least you don’t have to be alone afterwards,_ Caleb thinks.

He looks ahead and sees Fjord walking with Jester; Jester’s gesturing enthusiastically, skipping beside him and apparently telling him about some story, and Fjord...

Fjord’s watching her so fondly, with no reservation, just with pure gentleness. Jester cracks a joke, and Fjord _laughs._

Clammy fingers reach into Caleb’s throat, hot _bile_ rises into his mouth, and he’s trembling with wracking coughs _._ He grips his stomach with white knuckles, tries to desperately hold the bursting coughs _inside,_ but it tears and claws all the way from his lungs to his throat -

     ” _Caleb?”_ Nott squeaks, alarmed, and the whole group stops.

_No, no, no, don’t look at me, please don’t look at me -_

Dizziness storms in his skull, he’s cold, _freezing,_ and there’s hot, metallic taste welling on his tongue, he _wants to throw up -_

     ” - an go ahead, Nott, I’ll drag this lug with me.”

     ”Oh! Are you sure?”

     ”Yes, well, if I can’t, Yasha can throw him over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes.” 

     ”Oh, okay... if you want to. But I think he’s heavier than potatoes?”

     ”Well, Yasha can carry three sacks of potatoes, and she doesn’t even blink. Dragging Caleb will not be a problem.”

Caleb wheezes: ”I - it’s okay, Nott. This is nothing.”

Nott hesitates, but nods slowly. ”Okay. If that’s what you want.”

     ”Y - yeah.”

She glances at him one last time, before hurries to Jester’s side.

Mollymauk helps Caleb up to his feet and clicks his tongue.

     ”By the way, utter bullshit, that right there. Lying through your teeth, how dare you.”

     ”I don’t want to worry her”, Caleb manages to say, gripping Mollymauk’s hand as he tries to steady himself.

     ”I think it’s a bit late for that. You’re not that subtle, _and_ she’s a perceptive little bugger.”

     ”I’m - I know _.”_ Caleb rubs his chest. He can’t help but notice how rustling his breathing has become. Like dried up leaves, dead and _thin. Not good._

     ”You really do look like shit now”, Mollymauk says slowly, his eyebrows knitted together, and _oh,_ Caleb realizes that he’s actually _worried._

     ”Yes, well, it does seem to be my constant state of being, as it were”, he tries to joke weakly, but Mollymauk doesn’t find it funny.

     ”You need to talk to him.”

     ”Please, Molly...”

     ”It can’t certainly hurt to try! Open communication is so much better option than cutting anything.” 

 _I know._ Caleb does know. It’s just... he’s terrified. _He’s absolutely gripped by terror._

How can he look Fjord in the face, tell him these things and ruin whatever Fjord himself has going on with Jester? _No._ Absolutely not. Plus that would make things awkward between him and the whole group, Jester probably wouldn’t be jumping with joy, either when _she_ hears about it.

Maybe dying in utter embarrassment would be convienent after that. 

     ”Open communication does not mean mutual in any way”, he chokes out. ”It won’t change anything.”

     ”Well, you haven’t exactly asked what _his_ stance is, now have you?”

     ”I think it’s quite clear _where_ he stands, Molly. Please, stop.” 

Mollymauk clenches his jaw. He wants to argue, Caleb knows. Of course he does.

Because no matter what else Mollymauk is, he’s very loyal.

     ”Thank you for worrying, but... ”

     ”But _nothing._ You are absolutely hopeless”, Mollymauk mutters, but he sounds fondly exasperated. ”I can’t believe you.”

     ”Yes, well...tough times.”

     ”This conversation is not over, just so you know, we are talking about this and then, you and _him_ are talking about this, and then you are absolutely banned from dying.”

Caleb huffs a rustling laugh. ”Sounds like a plan.”

     ”Oh, stop that. Ugh, I hate you.” 

     ”I hate you, too.” 

_(they absolutely do not.)_

_(friendship is such a strange concept, isn’t it.)_

They keep moving.

+

The day is clear and crisp. As they descend down a trodden path, their breathing turns white, and lakes glimmer below the road, frozen and pale.

     ”Ooh, it’s so pretty!” Jester gasps, excited, nearly vibrating into the ravine just a few feet from them. ”D’you think it might carry our weight?”

     ”I wouldn’t go tryin’ our luck”, Fjord drawls wryly.

Caleb is barely listening. The cold air makes it hard to breathe; his bronchus are convulsing, stuttering and seizing behind the ribs, and he really, _really_ hopes they won’t go on the ice.

(he might just save them the whole trouble and just drown, that probably works, too.)

     ”It won’t hold”, Yasha grumbles bluntly.

     ”I don’t wanna go on the ice”, Beau drones. ”Too unsteady. We’ll fall like a buncha dominoes. No one wants that.”

     ”Okay, _fine._ Was just a suggestion, anyway, geez”, Jester grumbles, throwing longing looks at the lakes. They do look awfully lot like diamonds.

_(remember when you made snow angels and threw snowballs, once upon a time?)_

(caleb rubs his chest again. _breathe, dammit.)_

      ”C’mon now, ‘s really slippery down this way. Take it easy, everybody”, Fjord warns them, keeping an eye on Jester and Beau.

     ”Yes, yes, we won’t fall, how very embarrassing that would be”, Mollymauk rolls his eyes, but glances at Caleb over his shoulder.

He’s been doing that lately, and Caleb knows he’s worried, but it’s sort of digging under his skin now.

Then, of course, Mollymauk doesn’t really give a shit about doing this by rules.

     ”Hey, Fjord, would you mind making sure Caleb doesn’t fall into his death? Thanks, much obliged”, he says cheerfully and hurries down the path after Yasha. 

_You utter asshole._

Yeah, Caleb’s all not that pleased.

     ”I’m _not_ going to fall into a ravine”, Caleb points out.

Fjord grins. ”Oh, I wasn’t really worried about that. Well, accidents happen. So...” He extends his hand to Caleb, and _oh, it’d be so easy just grab it, just hold it, and..._

But...

_it’s just a hand._

Caleb takes Fjord’s hand. His hand’s large and calloused from work, so warm, almost _blistering_ through Caleb’s woollen mitten, soak into his system, and Caleb can’t help but to shiver.

     ”Cold?” Fjord murmurs.

Caleb answers to his gentle grin with a faint smile of his own. ”A little. It _is_ snowing after all.”

_Easy conversation. I can do this. I can do this._

(he can almost _hear_ flowers taking root inside his lungs.)

     ”So, uh, Caleb. Can I ask you somethin’?”

Caleb blinks. ”Sure. I mean, I suppose so?”

Fjord clears his throat almost uncomfortably. ”Nightmares botherin’ ya lately?” 

The question surprises Caleb. ”I - I’m not sure. Maybe? Why are you asking?”

Fjord’s expression grows more grim, heavier with worry.

     ”’Cause you’ve been coughin’ and screamin’ yourself hoarse few nights now”, he grunts.

_Oh no._

Caleb’s mind kicks itself into panic.

     ”I - I have?”

     ”...yeah. Frumpkin managed to help you ‘fore we even figured what was goin’ on, an’ we thought it was a nightmare, and then the last night it repeated... seriously, Caleb, are you okay?”

_No. Not even in the slightest._

They’re not moving anymore.

They’re standing in the middle of the bleak, frozen path, cold wind tearing through them, just the two of them. Caleb can’t rip his eyes from Fjord’s amber gaze, _he can’t -_

_And Fjord -_

His face is _bare,_ all of his worry, nervousness spilling over. 

     ”I’m just - ”

The disease curls it’s fingers around Caleb’s throat; hacking, he doubles over, drawing desperate inhales, blood taste on his tongue and soft petals fall into his palm.

     ”Hey, hey, _easy - breathe - ”_

Fjord doesn’t know what else to do than rub comforting patterns on Caleb’s curved spine.

Then, _finally,_ the convulsion of Caleb’s lungs settle into weak wheezing, _he’s so tired._

_I just want this to end..._

     ”That sounds fuckin’ serious, Caleb”, Fjord grunts, his accent thickening under the crushing weight of his worry. ”We gotta get you to a healer - or until then, at least talk to Jester, she might know a trick or two.”

     ”No, no, it’s - it’s fine. Please. It’s under control.”

     ”You sure? ‘Cause it sure as hell doesn’t sound like it’s gettin’ any better.”

     ”It - it will. I swear. _Please.”_

Suddenly Fjord stiffens, alarmed. ”You’re _bleedin’ - ”_

_Oh no -_

Caleb wipes his mouth hastily, his panic rushing into a blind overdrive. _This is too much, too much happening -_

     ”It’s nothing - ”

Fjord doesn’t quite bare his teeth, but his frustration and worry and _fear_ bleed over _._

”Look, I don’t mean to pry. I know it’s none of my business. You don’t have to tell me. But something’s obviously hurtin’ you, and - Molly knows, doesn’t he?”

Caleb gapes, startled.

     ”Let him help, then”, Fjord says roughly _,_ but the way he stares at Caleb...with something like _despair._ ”’Cause ya look like you’re in _agony_ , an’ I don’t have a damn idea how to help.”

_What do you - ?_

     ”I - it’s not - ” Words don’t set right in Caleb’s mouth. Flowers drag his tongue down. He tries again. ”Thank you.”

Fjord frowns, examining him under knitted eyebrows _._ ”For what?”

Caleb isn’t sure anymore. Isn’t sure how to articulate it, how to form a proper answer, because it’s so simple in all of its entirety.

 _Everything,_ really. This friendship. This pure _caring_ that Fjord does so effortlessly like Caleb somehow _deserves_ any of it.

(would he be so welcoming, if he knew how caleb feels about him?)

     ”For... for giving a damn, I suppose.”

Fjord’s eyes widen. ”’Course. I mean, shit, always.” Then, the strange tight atmosphere melts. Fjord offers his hand again to Caleb and smiles. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but it’s still better than nothing. ”C’mon. Others are way ahead of us.”

     ”They are probably on the lake already.”

     ” _Fuck.”_

+

They reach a little village by the lake.

It’s a cold, bleak place that smells of frost and fish.

To their relief, the rest of the group are not on the ice, but they are admiring rather impressive ice sculptures by the docks.

Jester is quick to spot Fjord and gushes: ”Look, look! Look at how amazing this is, I can count the abs on this thing!”

     ”A dwarf, huh?” Fjord asks and after glancing hesitantly at Caleb, he goes to her side to look at the sculpture.

Mollymauk ditches Yasha and asks Caleb: ”Well?”

     ”You are an asshole and I hate you and I shouldn’t be talking to you.”

     ”Well, I take offense on that. It wasn’t helpful, then?”

Caleb bites the inside of his cheek. ”Not really. Apparently I have been screaming in my sleep as well as...everything else. Why didn’t you tell me?” 

     ”Oh, right.” Mollymauk has the decency to look apologetic. ”I’m sorry, yes, that’s right. I heard you coughing, at least, I’m not really that coherent during night time. But he knew?”

     ”Yes.”

     ”Well, good, now stop looking like that and go confess.”

     ” _No.”_

Ahead, Jester’s giggles sound like silver bells.

Caleb’s heart sinks.

Mollymauk takes notice and scowls.

      ”Did it really go that badly?”

     ”Certainly could've gone a lot better, I suppose”, Caleb mutters. He wants to be anywhere else than to here and watch _this._ ”Could we look for an inn - or tavern or something?”

Something flashes in Mollymauk's eyes; bright like something sharp, something protective, something like awful recognition, and he nods slowly.

     ”Sounds good. You do look like you need a drink. Or five.” 

_(mollymauk wants to say something else, but he doesn't, there's that look again on caleb's face, the look of a drowning, hopeless man.)_

+

They find an inn, like all the others they've seen before it. Cozy, welcoming, crackling fireplaces, the smell of hot grease and ale and something sweet and smoky like cinnamon.

Mollymauk negotiates rooms for all of them, practically dazzles the lady behind the counter, digs up all the news (monsters and beasts, what else is new, absolutely _nothing),_ and while that happens, Caleb takes a seat by the fire, rubbing his hands, shivering and wondering once again what the hell he should do.

Telling Fjord would make no difference, not really, Fjord doesn't feel the same, that much is clear, and Caleb absolutely refuses to cause any trouble between Fjord and Jester.

Cutting the roots doesn't sound good either.

Cutting means losing every good feeling he has for Fjord; the affection, warm fondness, joy seeing him smile, hearing him laugh, all unrestrained and _wild,_ the pure desire to see him happy? No. The feelings may be causing Caleb agony, but he's far from being sorry for having them.

He doesn't regret any of it.

And if Jester makes Fjord happy?

Then Caleb can't ask for more than that. He thinks it's a good bargain, in the end. He just removes himself from the equation. Simple math, really.

_(it's just a shame his time is limited. limited, speeding, coming to sudden halt.)_

Others come in, eyes shining and clothes covered with snow, chattering and talking and laughing, and Caleb feels sudden grief mixed with strange sense of nostalgia as he watches Nott gesture excitedly to Jester, Beau finally gathering enough courage to have a casual chat with Yasha, Fjord watching them with amusement.

He is going to miss them.

At least Nott won't be alone now, they are good people, and they will be there for her, and really, that's all what Caleb wants. With a sigh, not quite content, but there all the same, he turns to warm his hands over the fire.

     ”Caa _aaleb!”_

A scent of sweet sugar whifts into Caleb's nose, and he's greeted by a wide smile.

Really, it would be easier to hate her. But life is more complicated than that, more interwoven, and Jester is simply too good a person ever to hate.

So instead, Caleb smiles faintly.

     ”Hello. Did you get tired of looking at dwarf abs?”

     ”He was pretty ripped”, Jester agrees as she settles beside him by the fire. ”How are you?”

Caleb stiffens. ”Did Fjord tell you?”

     ”No”, she replies calmly, ”I do have eyes, you know. Eyes that _work._ And my eyes that work are seeing that you're _wilting.”_

     ”I'm fine, thank you.”

     ”No, you're lying, and _that's_ not fine. Also no, whatever you're talking about with Fjord is between you two - though he's pretty worried.”

     ”He shouldn't be.”

     ”If you think so, then you don't know him that well”, she says, her voice sharper, and it feels like a punch in the gut.

Caleb has to look away. ”Maybe I don't, then”, he murmurs, voice catching in his throat.

     ”No, I - I said it wrong, I'm sorry. I didn't mean - ” Jester's stammer trails off, and she's wringing her hands in her lap. ”I want to help. Do you need a health potion? I have many now, take them. I can heal your wounds if you have some? Which, if you do, is just stupid, because you should've told me you are injured - just - tell me what to do! You look so gray and transparent and in pain, and I don't know what to _do!”_

Her lips are trembling, and Caleb thinks like he might be the worst scum in the world. His hand hovers nervously above her shoulder.

     ”No, it's - it's not your fault, it's mine, and it can't be fixed. So don't look like that, okay?” he smiles, he tries to smile, but it's all chalk and ash and despair, too. ”There's nothing you can do or could have done, Jester, honestly, don't worry about it.”

Her eyes are impossibly wide and wet and oh, she's terrified. ”Why? Why are you saying that? Don't tell me I can't do anything, I will!”

     ”I know. It's all right.”

He watches the awful realization dawn on her. An anguished sound escapes her mouth.

     ”You're _dying.”_

It's not a question, not really.

She knows.

He knows.

(the flowers are already slithering between his bones.)

     ”Please, can't I do something?” she asks desperately. ”Anything?”

     ”No, not really. Would you take care of Nott, though, that's important to me.”

     ”Yes, of course, but that's not what I meant! Caleb, are you sure? I mean, this - this is giving up! And we don't give up! We _don't!_ Why don't we at least try to find a solution? We can do that, right now! Let's bully someone to tell us! Drop everything and just go for it!”

There's a feverish, almost manic glint in her bright eyes, like she's desperate to claw an answer, _any answer_ , any solution, to the surface. Her concern is sincerely touching, and Caleb loves her in that moment, loves all of them, he really does.

So he just nods. ”There is no other way. It's terminal magic, there's no _healing_ it. Thank you for offering, though, it means a lot to me.”

Tears roll down her paled cheeks.

      ”You're being so unfair, why didn't you tell us?” she whimpers. ”We're a group, we're friends, aren't we? Why didn't you tell us?”

Caleb's torn. How is this happening? How can he handle this? What answer can he possibly give her that would explain and satisfy her?

     ”I can't tell you.”  

     ”Why? Why is that? Don't you trust us?”

     ”I do. I trust you more than I can ever trust myself, and my trust in you has never been in question, Jester. But please, _please_ believe me, when I say it's better for everyone involved that you do not know.”

     ”So, what, we're just supposed to stand here and watch you _wilt?”_

What an appropriate way of phrasing it, really, Caleb really has to admire the ironic poetry in it.

 His silence seems to fray the last of Jester's nerves, and her lips curl into a vicious snarl.

 _”No._ I refuse. No.”

     ”Jester - ”

     ”This isn't up for debate! It's not just you anymore, right? It's us, too... why can't you let us help?”

     ”Because there's nothing you can do about it. Please, drop it. I beg you.”

With a shaky inhale, Jester gapes at him, startled. ”Caleb...”

     ”No. Please, respect my decision.”

She looks like he's slapped her.

Then, her mouth purses into a tight line, and she stands up. Something cold radiates from her, like the snow outside the windows, and Caleb shivers.

Without saying a thing, she turns and walks back to Fjord, her shoulders stiff and head held up high. She exchanges a few words with Fjord and leans to rest her forehead on his chest.

And Caleb...

...Caleb just wants to sleep.

It's not long now.

+

It all goes wrong.

Of course it does.

Nothing ever goes according to plan in their lives.

+

The village is attacked by owlbears.

 _Monsters,_ said the lady back at the inn.

_Well, then. You were not wrong._

They attack in the nightfall. The sky is pale yellow, dark above the horizon.

Ear-piercing screeching freezes blood in everyone's veins, and the owlbears descend on the market place like a terror from deepest nightmares.

The ground is painted red.

It's madness.

It's _nightmare._

_It's horror._

Their black shiny beaks are  ready to poke eyeballs out of sockets, their cold yellow eyes full of mindless rage and hunger to ravage and rip apart.

The villagers run for their lives, screaming in horror at the carnage, grabbing their children and running, _running, pushing and shoving_ , and this whole battle narrows into three focused points.

Caleb sees them in crystal clarity despite all the chaos, madness welling and storming around him.

Fjord lies on the frozen ground, trying to hold the beast from ripping his throat open; the creature screams and shrieks, it's beak furiously trying to snap at Fjord - getting closer and closer by the second - he's thrown back -

The owlbear is ready to charge. Ready to pounce.

Fjord doesn't move. Too dizzy, maybe even concussed -

Caleb moves.

His body moves on autopilot, every nerve is screaming at him, hot adrenaline surging in his veins like fire, flowers are burning inside him -

\- and he throws himself in the way of that black, razor sharp beak.

**_”NO!”_ **

It's very quiet.

Hot blood pounds in Caleb's head. Then, he's very aware of petals. Green, green _, so very bright green_ petals, peony ( _bashfulness, honour, romance, isn't it now like pretty poetry)_ , fluttering from his mouth like delicate rain, blood, _drip drip drip_ , on the snow, and his legs tremble under sudden, enormous weight that is his life, _fading and fading_.

He falls. He falls. _Falls and falls and falls._

     _” **Caleb!”**_

Fjord scrambles to him as fast as he can, a desperate, wild look in his gaze, bright and terrified, and _oh, he shouldn't look like that..._

A flash of Beau's staff, the beast retreats -

 Caleb's eyelids are heavy. He's so tired. Exhaustion wraps around him like tar, dragging him deeper and deeper to the ground. Sleep sounds good. Maybe he even has deserved a bit of rest now, after everything he's pulled. Or maybe that's selfish. 

     ”Caleb, no, no, c'mon now, look at me - ”

Caleb knows that voice.

He smiles. It's breaking on his lips, through blood and tears, but he smiles, because he has to, because this is Fjord, and Caleb loves him so deeply. Reaching toward Fjord's utterly devastated face, his hand trembling, he manages to brush Fjord's scarred cheek.

     ”You're alive, thank - thank the gods.” The words taste like ash and blood and flowers. ”I'm sorry.”

Then, he falls.

+

Caleb can't breathe.

That's the first sensation he becomes aware of, and a surge of electric adrenaline courses through him in a split second. He jolts up, white-hot pain tightens around his stomach, and groaning, he nearly doubles over.

     ”Yes, very bad idea that. Don't do that, you might reopen it and then none of us will be happy.”

Caleb's head snaps up.

(his head is fuzzy, woollen, he's not sure what's happening anymore.)

Mollymauk sits on a chair across the room, and the pale light makes his red eyes harden.

     ”Is everyone all right?” Caleb wheezes, clutching his chest. ”Nott? Fjord? Is Fjord all right?”

Mollymauk grits his teeth. ”Yes, everybody is all right except you, you utter and complete bastard. What the bloody hell was going on through your head?”

     ”Um, quite possibly saving Fjord's life?” Caleb grimaces. The throbbing pain in his stomach clenches around him like a vice. ”I mean, that's what I was aiming for. What happened?”

     ”You nearly got gnawed to death by a hungry owlbear”, Mollymauk snaps. ”Plus your wonderful little flower show.”

Blood drains from Caleb's face. ”He saw it?”

     ”Everyone saw it.” Seeing Caleb's distress, Mollymauk's face softens. ”But everyone was a bit more occupied trying to stop you from bleeding to death. You did really frighten us, you know. Don't look so proud.”

     ”Even you were worried? Well, then.”

     ”Oh, don't get cute with me, you are aging me by decades by pulling silly stunts like these, honestly, good grief. But I'm glad you are still with us, despite you trying very hard not to.”

Caleb allows himself to smile, despite becoming aware of anxiety bundling up in his throat.

     ”Thank you.”

Someone knocks on the door, and Fjord peeks in.

Caleb's heart flutters, drowns in warm glow. _He's alive. Fjord's all right, he's alive._

Fjord freezes, when he spots Mollymauk.

     ”'scuse me, didn't mean to interrupt”, he grunts gruffly and turns to leave, but Mollymauk's got enough.

He shoots up on his feet and snaps: ”All right, that's it, I'm out. You two talk like adults, fix this mess or I will lock you in. Do you hear me? Talk it out. _Now_. Gods preserve me...” he grumbles and leaves the room with a huff, slamming the door shut behind him.

The silence is suffocating. Caleb has no idea what to do, what to say. Fjord clears his throat awkwardly and gestures the chair beside Caleb's bed.

     ”D'you mind if I...?”

     ”No, go ahead, please do.”

Fjord sits down. His shoulders are tensed, muscles taut like he's ready to burst with all the nervous energy stored inside.

     ”Are you all right?” Caleb asks carefully. He has no idea how to handle this situation.

 Fjord gapes at him.

     ”You're the one lyin' in bed an' you're askin' _me_ that?” he asks in disbelief. His voice is rough gravel with disuse.

     ”Yes”, Caleb answers, unblinking. ”Because the last I remember, the owlbear was charging at you.”

     ”Yeah, and then it wasn't, 'cause you got in front of me.”

The low growl in Fjord's voice is not exactly a surprise, but Caleb still purses his mouth.

     ”You can be angry with me, but I'm not apologizing for doing that.”

Fjord's nostrils flare, his jaw clenching.

     ”What the hell were you thinkin'? It nearly tore your organs to shreds, it was a goddamn miracle you didn't bleed out right then 'n there.” Fjord bows his head, rubs his neck. ”The snow was all red.”

Caleb pauses hesitantly. ”Yes, I... I imagine it didn't look exactly pleasant.”

     ”You spat out some flowers, too.”

Caleb's muscles seize up, his fingers grip the blankets. Anxiety scratches and claws at his chest, his pulse quickening into a nauseous rhytm.

     ”You saw those?” he finally asks.

     ”Kinda hard not to”, Fjord grunts. ”That's why you've been so sick... have you told him yet?” 

Caleb's brain goes blank. ” _What?”_

Fjord is very carefully not looking at him; he clears his throat again, fidgets with his fingers.

     ”Molly. Have you told him?”

     ”I'm sorry I'm afraid I don't follow - have I told him what?” Caleb asks and is suddenly very sure he's missing something vital.

A heavy, anxious shadow passes Fjord's features. ”That you - you know - love him. Get this illness cured? Seriously, I'm draggin' him back here, if you haven't - ”

Caleb stares.

And stares.

_And stares._

Numb feeling pricks and spreads to his limbs, and he just gapes.

     ”You - you think I'm in love with _Molly?”_

     ”Aren't ya?” Fjord's voice is weary, strangely resigned.

     ”No. Why in heaven's name would I be in love with him?”

They stare at each other.

Fjord's eyes widen. ”Then - but you've been so sick - who is it?”

So this is it, then. Caleb closes his eyes. He's fought so hard, struggled so viciously against every attempt to _be here_ , but now, it's come to this conclusion. There's no evading, no running, no escaping this. So, he straightens, drawing a shaky breath inside and braces himself.

     ”I love you.”

The silence falls into the room, heavy and ringing.

Fjord's frozen.

     ”What did you say?”

Caleb slumps against the headbord, so terribly exhausted and numb. He just wants to go back to sleep, sleep until everyone else just forgets him and he can fade away from this world.

     ”It's not Molly. It's you. I love you, so very desperately, and I absolutely understand the circumstances we are under - so you don't have to worry, I will deal with my feelings like an adult, so please, don't worry about that. I have no intention of coming between you and Jester, so can we just please, _please_ pretend this very much did not happen and I can just go - ”

     ”Stop.”

It shouldn't hurt, but it does.

Caleb nods. ”Of course.”

     ”No, you - you don't get it.” Fjord's voice sounds low, rattled in a way that strikes Caleb as strange. ”You love me?”

     ”Yes.”

     ”Why didn't you _tell me?”_

A broken, tired laugh spills out of Caleb's mouth. ”I thought it was rather obvious. You - and Jester - how could I ever come waltzing between that, ruining everything with my very inconvenient feelings? No. It was not an option.”

     ”Caleb - ”

     ”Not that it worked, at any rate, I still told you now and I'm so sorry for putting you in this position, you weren’t really supposed to know - and then, cutting was in no way happening either - ”

     ”So, what, you just decided to _die?”_ Fjord growls, his eyes flashing bright like amber.

     ”There weren't a lot of options left on the table, now were there?” Caleb asks gently and rubs the bridge of his nose. ”It's okay.”

Fjord bares his teeth. ”The hell it is. Why - you should've told me - at any time - you've been suffering in silence this whole time, and I didn't know what to do, how to _help_ \- ” His breathing grows harsh, shallow. Then, he swallows thickly and his sharp, clear gaze lances through Caleb. ”Can I - just please listen to me for a sec?”

     ”Always”, Caleb answers with such calmness that sits unnaturally in his gut, but it's the last shred of control that he has left, before he unravels completely.

Fjord makes a pained, rough noise in the back of his throat. ”I'm not with Jester. I swear to gods, we are not involved. We are just friends.”

It's Caleb's turn to gawk. ”Really? But - ”

Fjord grimaces awkwardly and rubs the back of his neck. ”She's just really... tactile. But I swear to you, there is nothing romantic or sexual between us. In fact, she's been listenin' to me bitch 'n moan 'n pine for the last month.”

     ”Pine - ? But - ”

     ”I thought you were in love with Molly.” Fjord's lips quirk into a pained smile. ”He seemed to understand, but then you kept gettin' worse so - but I didn't even - I'm so sorry, Caleb.”

Caleb's head swims. Fuzziness swells in his skull, he has no words, he just _gapes._

Is this really happening? The world has shifted sideways, it's uneven, and Caleb thinks he might be _passing out -_

\- tries to breathe; air catches in his throat, like jagged edges, and he coughs again. Fjord stiffens.

     ”Hey, _Caleb - ?”_  

Caleb hears his own breathing, rasping and wheezing and _strangled,_ flowers blossom in his mouth, blood gushes behind his teeth, _pushing and pushing in one last furious attempt -_

 _\- it's cutting pretty close, now isn't it..._ Caleb's still half convinced he might be hallucinating this whole thing - it would be rather fitting, considering it all, but then -

Fjord grasps Caleb's head between his large hands and kisses him. It's desperate, _messy_ kiss, Caleb can taste salt, blood and panic, and it sinks into his numb brain that _Fjord is kissing him..._

     ”I love you”, Fjord rasps with a deep, _broken_ voice, resting his forehead against Caleb's, as if frantic to keep him close, ”I'm in love with you, goddamnit, you hear me, _please - ”_

Caleb stares, breathless and stunned and so _painfully hopeful._

     ”You love me?” he nearly gasps against Fjord's mouth. His own voice sounds mangled, _gutted._

     ”Yeah, I do.”

     ”You're _in love with me?”_

     ”That's what the sources say, yeah.”

     ”You're not bullshitting me? Just because I'm - I'm coughing up _flowers -_ ”

     ”The hell kinda question is that? No! I've been head over heels for you ever since you showed off your fancy magic tricks. D'you feel that?” Fjord rests his palm on Caleb's thin, heaving chest, where his heart flutters like a nervous baby bird, where the roots and the petals _rot -_

Caleb stills, startled.

And he _does_ get it.

Breath by breath, _inhale, exhale,_ the crisp oxygen floods into his chest cavity. _Slowly, easier. Inhale, exhale._

_Breathe._

     ”Feel that?” Fjord grunts, his eyes gauging Caleb's pale, clammy face with both worry and nervousness. ”I _love_ you, goddamnit. It's mutual. It's requited. I swear to you. I'm so far for you it ain't even funny:” 

Caleb breathes, with what feels like the first time in _months._

His whole chest expands slowly under Fjord's warm palm.

     ”It's a little funny”, he murmurs, smiling faintly.

     ”Well, I'm glad ya find humor in the situation, 'cause I've been worryin' you're gonna drop dead.” Fjord leans in to nuzzle Caleb's forehead tenderly. ”I'm so _fucking_ glad you're not.”

Shuddering, Caleb can only nod against Fjord. ”What a mess...”

     ”A bit, yeah, but - 'm sorry, Caleb, I didn't realize I was hurtin' you - ”

     ”It wasn't your fault. Really. Just... a rather sad mess of misunderstandings and assumptions. It's okay now.”

     ”Next time - tell me. Okay? No matter what it is, just... talk to me. We'll figure it out together. Yeah?”

     ”Oh, next time I'm coughing up flowers? Sure.”

     ”Oh, aren't you sassy.”

They share a weak chuckle, just enjoying this simple intimacy with each other. Fjord's arms are warm and _safe_ around him, his warmth soaks and seeps through Caleb's shirt, and he feels so blissfully _secure._ Cared for. Loved. Protected.

What a funny feeling, love is, he thinks and rests his head on Fjord's collarbone, distantly aware of Fjord pressing his lips against his hair.

Caleb angles his head to close the distance between them. It's light, slow and almost chaste; they're mapping, slowly trying to get acquainted, become familiar with each other's bodies.

Soon they find a rhythm, and the kiss turns hungry, like they have been starving for this their whole lives. Red desire coils in their bloodstream, sparking it to _boiling,_ and despair of nearly losing _everything,_ causes them to collide and crash and _cling_ like it's still looming above them _._

     ”Wait - wait a moment, hold up a sec, you're still _hurt - ”_

     ”Not that hurt - ”

     ”Caleb - _seriously,_ I'm definitely up for this at some point, not while you're half- _dead - ”_

Mildly disappointed, Caleb pulls back and sighs. Fjord keeps a gentle grip on the back of Caleb's neck, giving him a comforting squeeze. He brushes a light kiss on Caleb's mouth before leaning back, out of reach.

     ”At some point?” Caleb raises an eyebrow. ”Is that a promise?”

     ”Uh, yeah. I mean, if _you're_ on board with that.”

Caleb’s smile turns shy and _soft._ Fjord's flustered, awkward expression looks so _endearing_.

     ”I am”, Caleb replies quietly and leans to Fjord's shoulder _._ ”Thank you.”

     ”What for?” Fjord asks just as quietly, carding his fingers absent mindedly through Caleb's messy hair as if trying to imprint the texture into his memory.

Caleb's smile doesn't break, it just _shines._ ”For being here.”

Fjord relaxes, melts against Caleb, burying his nose into Caleb's temple. ”Always. For as long as you'll let me.”

      ”Up for a long haul, then?”

Fjord tilts Caleb's chin up with a very gentle move so they can look each other in the eyes  affectionately.

     ”Darlin', you fuckin' know it.”

+

**Author's Note:**

> I love Molly and that kinda spilled into this, he's so done with Caleb's bullshit, poor dear. So this got a bit messy and a lot longer than i intended, but whatever, it’s out now. (also i picked some random beast and owlbears looked cool and i’m terrified of owls, and if it’s like super lame... no can do.) I don't know anything about D&D please don't yell at me. Once again, please tell me about grammar mistakes, not a native speaker! You are all amazing, thank you for sticking this far! <3

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Everything's Coming Up Flowers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13710981) by [thismagichour](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thismagichour/pseuds/thismagichour)




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